


Clean

by sophinisba



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Boss/Employee Relationship, Community: merlinblitz, F/M, Open Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:44:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1290013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nimueh has more experience in the field than in the non-profit office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the first merlinblitz community challenge, with the prompt "rainwater", also inspired by my recent watch of House of Cards.

She only needs to put in a few hours at the office this morning. She's got two hours at the salon built into her schedule before the gala tonight.

As she's saying goodbye to the Ford Foundation reps she hears "Ms. Pendragon," in a clear, unfamiliar voice, and turns to see a pretty, dark-haired woman cutting across the floor towards her office. The woman smiles and holds out her hand for Ygraine to shake. "I wanted to introduce myself while you're here. Nimueh Mere. I just came on board last week."

The skin of her hands is smooth and her eyes are shining and lovely. Her skirt and blazer match but don't fit her quite right, tight in the shoulders and the hips. Probably a thrift store find, or maybe a hand-me-down. And though she seems a little unsteady in heels, she's striding around like she owns the place, with a confidence that took Ygraine years to learn to project.

"I remember your cover letter," says Ygraine. "I understand you've been on board with our project for some time now."

Nimueh grins. "Different levels of it, but sure, clean water's been important to me since I was a kid. My work in India and Bolivia grew out of what I learned back home in California. And now, wow, it's great to be somewhere where I actually have a chance to influence policy. You work on a larger scale than anything I've been part of before."

"And it's great for us to have someone with so much experience here in the office. It will help keep us grounded, remember who we really work for. It makes a difference in our fundraising and lobbying efforts too, to have that kind of lived experience to share."

"Plenty to share," Nimueh says with a nod, "that's me."

**

It's always easy to spot the table of interns and first-year staffers in the back of the room. They're the youngest, yes, and their outfits are more likely to look reused from a wedding. But it's mainly their eagerness that sets them apart, whether at banquets like this or congressional hearings. They feel lucky to be in the same room with the likes of Uther and Ygraine.

She once caught Uther with an intern in his office. And it wasn't the betrayal (it _wasn't_ a betrayal) but the sordidness that bothered her. "How can you be so cheap?" she'd said then. How could the man she loved be so boring, she'd wondered.

Her gaze lingers on them as they grin and whisper to each other, spotting celebrities, trying to resist snapping pics with their phones. At the touch of Uther's hand on hers, she realizes she's looking for the one who isn't there.

**

Nimueh doesn't go to galas, Ygraine learns. Nor to happy hours with the other staffers or even the cafeteria. She eats noodle salad at her desk, writes letters and attends hearings. After a couple weeks she's preparing Ygraine's talking points, then writing her speeches. 

She never looks quite right in these clothes, but she's steadier than ever on her feet. 

**

It's not a heavy rain, but it's a dark and cold one, and Nimueh's dressed for the morning's heat, her arms bare and her legs too long under a not-quite-professional skirt, and Ygraine doesn't want to watch her walking to the Metro.

Nimueh accepts the ride without arguing. Traffic is slow and her sigh leaves a fog on the windshield. 

"You can park in the ramp," Nimueh says, pointing, even though Ygraine didn't say anything about stopping.

The building is uglier than anywhere she's stepped foot in ten years, and she's itching to unbutton her blouse before they even make it to the end of the hallway. Ygraine remembers how to be young and cheap and eager too. Her own apartment during her first two years of law school (before she met Uther) was smaller than this, though never quite as dingy. She always had standards, always had taste.

"Ignore that, just my roommate's stuff," Nimueh murmurs, kicking a bag out of her way and pulling Ygraine through the living room. Then it's the double bed that takes up the whole room and Nimueh's pushing her on her back, reaching under her skirt and pulling off Ygraine's panties and her pantyhose with one cold, steady hand. Nimueh's wet and heavy on top of her, her tongue in Ygraine's mouth, hands at her hips, hard muscle of her thigh pushing firm against Ygraine's bare sex. It's bare minutes before Ygraine is gasping, squeezing Nimueh's arms hard enough to leave marks, and then she notices Nimueh's still wearing all her ill-fitting dressup clothes, soaked with rain and now smelling of sex.

"Let me, for you," Ygraine offers softly, but Nimueh's already getting up and going to stand by the window. It takes Ygraine a minute to remember how to sit up. She searches distractedly for her underwear.

"I can't work for you anymore," Nimueh says to the street.

"Because of this?" says Ygraine, confused. "No one needs to know..." but Nimueh's shaking her head.

"I can't keep going to meetings. I can't be polite. Two years ago a rain like this meant my neighbors _stayed alive_ , because of the work we did together. Do you have any idea what that feels like?" She closes her eyes. "Of course you don't. I know because I listen to you tell my stories, every other speech you make. You have no idea what thirst means, Ygraine. I can hear it in your voice. It's not like I blame you. How _could_ you know?"

I know, Ygraine thinks. I know what thirst is. I know now.

**

Uther gets home late that night. They share a glass of wine and a kiss before bed.

"I think I've got you back for a while," he says, affectionate, amused.

"I think you may be right," she says, and lets him fold her in his arms.

"Welcome home."


End file.
